AllFreeNovel
Share Us
But while I was always a glass half-full kind of guy, that didn’t mean I didn’t see the empty space. I just chose to believe in the best in people.
And something about Tate, from the first day we met, called to me.
His brusque attitude and rigid demeanor were shields, ones that he fought hard to maintain. Except when I said something outrageous and coaxed a rare smile out of him. Fuck, if he smiled more in auditions, he’d probably be a superstar by now.
The only other time he mellowed was when he’d had a few drinks. The man was crying out for fun but rarely relaxed enough to do so.
In no time at all, he became my closest friend. I had a lot of them, but very few I trusted.
Most of my acting friends would stab you in the back for less than the price of admission.
But not Tate.
Despite our competition for the same roles, neither of us torpedoed the other. We traded the inside scoop on upcoming auditions. And we helped each other rehearse our lines and offered criticism. Some of it we took, other times it led to arguments, of course. Passionate ones, always. Ones that were becoming a bit too passionate. At least, for me.
Too bad Tate was straight.
Or so he said.
His constant reminders to me that he was not gay repeated like a bad case of reflux. I heard him the first time. And I never came on to him or flirted. Well, not intentionally. But there was a tension between us, and sometimes it made me wonder. Not to mention that I spotted him staring at me a few times. And I knew interest when I saw it.
But I didn’t want to rock our friendship. Or push him in any way. Everyone came out in their own time. Or not at all.
And Tate was already a wounded animal—get too close or push too hard, and find out the hard way that yes, his bite is as bad as his bark.
But his constant refrain made me question things. Why did he feel the need to keep telling me he wasn’t gay? The behavior reminded me of the jocks in high school who were vocal about not associating with anyone queer, until after class, when they’d proposition me in the locker room.
And sure, I knew that openly queer actors had a harder time in this biz. Unfortunate, but true. But I had come out of the closet at sixteen and there was no fucking way I was ever going back in.
Not even for my career.
Which might finally be on the verge of spiking.
I’d finally secured an audition for a movie role. Not an extra, not a non-speaking role, but a good, solid supporting role.
Now all I had to do was break the news to Tate.
The door of our apartment slammed, and I heard my roommate’s telltale footsteps down the hallway. He stepped into the living room where I was sitting on the sofa, reading my lines.
“Hey!” I greeted him, schooling my expression.
Tate had recently cut his hair, and the long brunet strands that once fell to his cheekbones were no more. The undercut suited him. Despite the scruff that covered most of his jawline, I noticed the rare pink flush that stained his cheekbones.
“Guess what?”
I could tell from his excited tone that something big had happened.
“You got the part in Longford Medical?”
Longford Medical was a long running hospital drama on TV. I’d auditioned too, but they wanted someone older.
He shook his head and whipped off his wayfarers, his amber eyes so bright I hardly recognized him.
Then he smiled, and shit, the effect it had on me was painfully intense.
“Even better. I got an audition for Fallingbrook!”
“The one directed by Lance Darling?”
